


let's go far away

by hapakitsune



Category: Gay Pirates (song)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 18:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hapakitsune/pseuds/hapakitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>I hope they didn't tie up your hands as tight as mine.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	let's go far away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [curiouslyfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiouslyfic/gifts).



The water is cold, shocking his body as much as the impact. It fills his mouth as he tries to gasp for air, kicking his legs -- but it’s not enough, he knows. His balance is thrown by his bound wrists, and even if he managed to stay afloat for a few minutes, he would soon tire.

So he lets himself fall, his eyes burning as he stares through the salty water. He’s ready for this, he is --

And then someone seizes him under the arms and hauls him towards the surface, where he splutters and chokes. He turns and sees Sebastian, his sweet Sebastian, triumphantly waving a tiny dagger in his hand.

“Your arms,” Sebastian says, breathless. He lets Sebastian grope for his wrists and feels the bite of the steel against his skin as Sebastian saws frantically through the rope. At last, his arms come free and he celebrates by putting his arms around Sebastian and kissing him firmly on the mouth, grateful he can do at least that.

“What can we do?” he asks Sebastian when he pulls back. Neither of them can last for much longer, he knows, but Sebastian’s eyes are bright and eager.

“Swim,” he says mysteriously, and he points in a seemingly random direction.

He would almost rather enjoy his last minutes with Sebastian before they had to sink down to their watery grave, but there is a fire behind Sebastian’s gaze, and he supposes there could be worse plans.

His Sebastian, he thinks with pride and pleasure as they begin to swim. When Sebastian had arrived on the ship, fresh from being taken from a navy ship, he had been young and, yes, beautiful -- too beautiful, he had always thought. Sebastian had been the goal of every whore-sick man on the ship, but Sebastian had chosen _him_. The folly of youth.

They are both older now, perhaps a little wiser, but Sebastian is no less beautiful or brilliant. A younger son of a lord, he had once confessed, educated but elected to go to sea. He would have been an officer someday, had his ship not been overtaken by pirates.

Sebastian calls him John, for no reason that he has ever been able to understand. But he was born with no name at all, so John serves just as well as any other that has been stuck to him as he passed from ship to ship. And Sebastian likes having a name to whisper when John -- yes, John, he thinks defiantly, he can take that name now, there is no captain to tell him that the son of a ship whore deserves to remain nameless -- kisses his neck and holds him tight.

His arms are growing tired now and he isn’t sure that they’ll be able to make it much further. He catches up to Sebastian and says, “My love, I don’t think we’ll make it to shore.”

Sebastian’s eyes are very blue and very wide. So innocent, he thinks sadly to himself, even after everything that has happened to them. “We will find a safe harbor,” Sebastian says without any trace of doubt. “I know, John, I can feel it. Just have some faith in me?”

“I always have faith in you,” he says honestly, open as he always has been. Sebastian smiles and turns so that he may float on his back a while.

They wash up on a tiny spit of land, barely enough to even be called an island; in high tide, it will probably be mostly covered, but it’s a place to rest. Sebastian’s golden hair dries and fans out, his hair ties long gone. They’ve both shed boots and coats, anything that could drag them down sooner, and there is no one stopping them now, no one to knock on their door and shout at them. They can curl up together, pressed together from shoulder to toe. Sebastian presses his face between his shoulder blades and murmurs, “We’re going to make it through.”

He wishes he had Sebastian’s faith, the sheer belief in fate that held Sebastian through every twist and turn of life. The sun shines down brightly on them, making his head pound, but he doesn’t care -- he could be happy here, he thinks, happy to spend their last days indulging in the kind of freedom they’ve never had before.

\---

He wakes on a ship and for a moment, he panics, sure that it had all been a dream. But there is a hand on his shoulder and a voice in his ear, and he recognizes it as Sebastian after a moment. He settles back and listens to what Sebastian is saying --

“John, it’s all right, I promise, we’re safe now,” Sebastian breathes against him, his hand stroking his chest gently. “We were found, we were rescued.”

“How?” he asks, voice creaky and rusty. “How is that possible?”

“I had faith,” Sebastian murmurs before kissing him firmly on the mouth.

He had never had anything to call his own; he had born aboard a pirate ship and his mother had died bringing him into the world. The captain, for reasons unknown to anyone but the man himself, had kept him and raised him as a ship boy, and he had been on the water ever since.

Sebastian is the only thing in the world that’s all his, the only thing he doesn’t owe to the limited generosity of his captains, the only thing he earned just by being himself.

He pushes Sebastian over onto his back and straddles him, taking a moment to luxuriate in their privacy. He laces his fingers with Sebastian’s, smiling down at him. Sebastian looks back at him with his clear eyes and guileless smile, so absurdly hopeful and beautiful that he can’t help but lean down to for a kiss before sliding his hand between them.

After, they lie curled up in each other’s arms, breathing the same air. Sebastian is stroking his hair rhythmically, humming quietly. Sebastian hums all the time, sings sometimes if he’s in the mood. It’s the most beautiful sound in the world.

“You should meet our new captain,” Sebastian says eventually, tucking an errant lock of hair back. “She’s...very interesting.”

“She?” he asks, startled. He leans up on his elbows, peering down at Sebastian. “What ship is this?”

Sebastian smiles and leans down to whisper, “The Morrígan.”

He pulls back, eyes wide. “ _Granuaile_ ,” he says, stunned.

“The Pirate Queen herself,” agrees Sebastian, and he hums a snatch of the ballad that carries her name. “Come, she wants to meet you.” He rolls off their narrow bunk and holds out his hand. “Don’t be shy, John.”

He takes Sebastian’s hand and lets himself be led up to the deck. True to Sebastian’s word, a tall woman stands at the helm, her close-cropped red hair fanning out in the wind. Sebastian hails her, waving his free hand and calling, “Captain!”

She looks down at them, a smile playing at her mouth. “I see your man has awoken, Sebastian.” She descends the stairs to where they stand. She offers a hand to him and, after a moment, he takes it. Sebastian beams at the two of them. “Welcome aboard,” she says quietly. “What’s your name?”

It’s the first time he has ever been asked that question by a captain and for a moment he can’t decide what to say. He settles on the truth. “I was never given a name, sir. My mother was a salt wife aboard a pirate ship. She died when I was born.”

“Well, then it’s high time you choose a name,” the captain says. “I can’t have a nameless crewman aboard my ship. Makes shouting for you much more difficult." She grins. "What would you like to be called?”

He looks at Sebastian and says, “John. You can call me John.”

She nods approvingly. “Welcome to the crew, John,” she says, and for once the name settles easily on his skin, fitting against him. She moves past them, shouting to one of the crewmen, leaving Sebastian and the newly christened John standing alone.

Sebastian squeezes his hand and whispers, “You don’t have to use it, you know.”

“Your name should come from someone important,” he says. “And you are the most important person in my life.” He squares his shoulders and says, “My name is John.” This time, it feels like it fits.

**Author's Note:**

> Granuaile was the nickname of Gráinne Ní Mháille, a real-life Irish pirate who is sometimes referred to as the Pirate Queen.


End file.
